Case Number 09614

TRACK OF THE CAT: SPECIAL COLLECTOR'S EDITON

The Charge

When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd
my teeming brain, Before high pil'd books, in charact'ry, Hold like
rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's
starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And feel that I
may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! That I shall never look upon
thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting
love; -- then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think, Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink. "When I have Fears
that I may cease to be" -- John Keats

Opening Statement

William A. Wellman had just been nominated for best director for The High
and the Mighty. John Wayne was pretty hot and looking to produce a Wellman
film. Wellman had been waiting for the chance to film Van Tilburg Clark's
cerebral Track of the Cat. He'd also been wanting to experiment with a
"color" black-and-white film. This confluence of creative urges led to
an experimental film that suited its makers, though not necessarily the
expectations of its audience.

When I reviewed Pursued (1947), I was looking forward to seeing
Robert Mitchum and Teresa Wright embroiled in a noirish, psychological western.
That film's artifice and melodrama were alienating. Fortunately, Track of the
Cat delivers on that promise.

Facts of the Case

Introducing...The Bridges Clan! Throw these merry characters together in a
snowbound ranch in the Colorado frontier and you get one sunny tale:

* Curt (Robert Mitchum, Pursued (1947)): The unquestioned authority
figure in the family, middle son Curt is mean-spirited, closed-minded, ruthless,
and swollen with testosterone. Be it the family ranch, his brother's girlfriend,
or the black panther, Curt will get what he wants or die trying. He and Ma get
along fine.

* Ma (Beulah Bondi, It's a Wonderful Life): Ma harasses and harangues
everyone into compliance. Her twisted will is the rule of the homestead, even if
she needs to distort the words of the Lord to get it. Ma wants none of her
children to marry, nor to get along. Apparently, she wants her lineage to die
off alone after decades of cruelty and pain.

* Harold (Tab Hunter, Damn Yankees!): The youngest son is the last
hope of salvation for the Bridges. He wants to get busy with the neighbor girl
and start his own ranch. He just needs to borrow a pair of brass ones so he can
spit his hidden desires out past his tied tongue.

* Grace (Teresa Wright, Mrs. Miniver): The reluctant spinster and
sole female counterpoint to Ma, Grace is as downtrodden as women can get --
except that she yells at everyone else just fine.

* Pa (Philip Tonge, Miracle on 34th Street): As ineffectual a
patriarch as ever there was, Pa continually drowns himself in booze, fondles the
womenfolk, and generally makes an ass of himself during the half hour he is
awake every day.

The outsiders are: * Gwen Williams (Diana Lynn, Bedtime for
Bonzo): Gwen is Harold's gal, although Pa is usually the one with hands on
her, and Curt savors secret plans to rape her. In any case, Gwen seems to be the
one pushing Harold around. She's hot, in a "pent-up frontier woman"
way.

* Joe Sam (Carl Switzer, Alfalfa from Our Gang): A Native American
hired hand who is old, very superstitious, and very, very stereotypical.

* The Black Panther (as himself): This unseen menace slays men and steer
with allegorical abandon.

The Evidence

Track of the Cat is a singular film. Though its darkness, sexual
undercurrents, and allegorical dismemberment of the human psyche are compelling,
the story left most audience members scratching their heads. Jingoistic John
Wayne produced it, so where is the gung-ho? Robert Mitchum had established his
laconic style, so his piercing, misanthropic, tortured performance probably
shocked everyone. And what's with the weird cinematography?

In the Quarter Deck chapter of Moby Dick, Melville wrote:All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event --
in the living act, the undoubted deed -- there, some unknown but still reasoning
thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask.
If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside
except by thrusting through the wall? Melville was discussing an ignoble
God, and the attempts of an imprisoned soul to break through the veil of hollow
humanity, to strike a blow of vengeance against this deific power. It is a grim,
but powerful, symbol. If you took this riff and folded it into a Western
starring Robert Mitchum, you'd approximate the oddity of the experience that is
watching Track of the Cat. In fact, Wellman does Melville one better and
never even shows the Panther that has sparked a supernatural war with the
Bridges. It is literally an unseen menace.

With his framework set, Wellman essentially throws everything out the
window. People in this film use the words of the Bible like daggers and whips.
Psychosexuality and self-indulgence take the place of healthy family love. The
camera enters a grave and films the survivors bickering with one another from
below. In Wellman's film, a match being blown out becomes a portentous omen of
failure and death. Saddling a horse becomes aggression against your fellow man.
Sitting down to breakfast is fraught with mortal peril, a rain of furious barbs
laced with venom. No comfortable mainstay of cinema is safe; no harbor
exists.

It takes a while to glean what is happening in this movie. That stretch of
time is delicious, a merry confusion of curtailed expectations and dramatic
struggle. Who are these people? What is their perverse social structure? This
confusion morphs into understanding, which corresponds with a darker turn of
emotional expression in the movie. Track of the Cat is usually one step
ahead, imperceptibly upping the ante.

Like many dark films of the era, this one fumbles the final act. It isn't
exactly a happy ending, but it is much neater than the preceding film. It is
just upbeat enough not to fit, although there isn't anything logically flawed or
inconsistent about it. The ending is simply a shift in tone from what came
before, though that too may be part of the allegory. When man faces and destroys
the malevolent entity that plagues him, maybe things do instantly become
brighter. I don't know; I've yet to slay my white whale.

William H. Clothier's implementation of Wellman's cinematographic vision
makes Track of the Cat stand out. The opening shot of a man trudging a
horse through snowbound mountains peppered with pines is stark and almost
indistinguishable from pure black and white. Only the merest hint of bluish
coloration betrays the color scheme. Color gradually seeps in, though most
objects in the film are unnaturally desaturated. The exceptions are stark and
telling. Curt wears a blood red overcoat with a black stripe in the center.
Grace wears a yellow number that serves as the only spot of color in the Bridges
household, and draws attention both figuratively and literally because of it.
Flames and bright blue match heads are shockingly vibrant. These colors are
almost as meaningful as the alabaster hide of Moby Dick or the brilliant gold
doubloon nailed to the mast.

This palette has an unsettling effect, like Technicolor without the color.
Thematically, it subtly and continually reinforces the unreality of the story
and the blackness of the characters. It also has a visceral effect, muting our
eye and punctuating the monotony with splashes of color. Paramount's transfer of
this striking effect is disappointing. The print is clearly aged and worn, with
moderate dirt and some scratches. The transfer overuses edge enhancement and has
many digital artifacts. The bright colors smear into the muted backgrounds.
There is some instability in the 2.55:1 frame, which gives the movie a cramped
vibe. Even with these annoyances, the image retains its effectiveness.

The forbidding mood is accentuated by a score that skirts, but never quite
falls into, strident melodrama. Every action takes on brooding significance, as
though the family is about to be consumed in a maelstrom. The score is
effective, though repetitive. I had trouble figuring out which track was
superior. The Dolby Digital 4.0 track didn't appear to use the surrounds at all.
However, switching to 2.0 surround made the vocals and music sound compressed
and boomy. Switching back to the 4.0 track made everything expand, though it
sounded less immediate. I'd side with the 4.0 track, which does envelop you even
if there aren't identifiable directional effects.

The movie would fall flat on its face if not for the no-holds-barred acting.
Mitchum is the first example that springs to mind. Curt is haughty and violent,
maintaining a veneer of civility. Though others, notably Harold and Joe Sam,
present the facts clearly and make the wise decisions, Curt either appropriates
their insights as his own or disregards their sound advice as a way of
reinforcing his dominance. If he represented the seven deadly sins, he'd be
pride and lust. Beulah Bondi's shrewd portrayal of Ma gives the character an
added veneer of menace and spite. Teresa Wright bottles up her sensual appeal
and becomes a shockingly repressed victim who bursts at just the right times.
Each cast member brings the right note to the table. The one character who
struck a false note with me was Joe Sam. Carl Switzer is put into really bad
makeup, and hunches unconvincingly. His stilted speech seems affected. Joe Sam
is hard to take as seriously as the character requires, though the writing is
strong enough to carry the character.

Paramount has provided a considerate, if odd, collection of extras. The
commentary is more a celebration of Wellman than an actual dissection of the
film. Wellman Jr. is interested in glorifying his father's notable works, while
Tab Hunter has the Hollywood patter down pat. Given the dark, bitter, and
symbolic nature of the film, a little more analysis would have suited the
commentary (or perhaps a second commentary devoted to literary criticism would
have been called for). The featurettes on Walter Van Tilburg Clark and William
Wellman help rectify this omission, delving into the symbology and background of
the picture. There is a little bit of back patting, but the respect seems
genuine. Then there are the animal featurettes, one about the trick horse used
effectively in the film, and one about panthers. The panthers featurette
demystifies the main symbol somewhat, playing into the mistaken audience
expectation that this movie is about hunting a panther. The photo galleries and
trailers are galleries and trailers. All told, the extras package is interesting
and accents the main feature nicely.

Closing Statement

Unique films are rare, especially big-budget ones. With its radical
aesthetic, twisted players, and supernatural themes, Track of the Cat is
as compelling as it is unsettling. If you enjoy westerns, particularly John
Wayne westerns, you might find this one too strange to suit. If you like
psychosexual dramas characterized by claustrophobia, malice, and dread, get
comfy. You're about to see one of the darkest families ever committed to
celluloid.